


love you through it

by bestthreemonths



Category: Her Name in the Sky - Kelly Quindlen
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9826058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestthreemonths/pseuds/bestthreemonths
Summary: Hannah and Baker have to make a tough decision about their family.





	

**Author's Note:**

> tw: animal death - i'm so sorry in advance

Hannah saw it coming long before Baker did. Or maybe Baker knew—she had to know—but refused to admit it to herself. Either way, it was Hannah who sat Baker down on the couch that Wednesday evening and told her it was time. Not today, not tomorrow, but soon. And Baker had to be ready for it.

 

Baker would never be ready.

 

It was something they got used to over time, like how you don't notice your hair growing till suddenly you need it cut, but of course it didn't just happen overnight. Hannah got used to accounting for five extra minutes in her morning routine because Charlie didn't walk as quickly on their route around the block. At some point he stopped sleeping at the foot of the bed, instead resigning himself to guarding the door, so they got used to cold toes too.

 

Baker pulls the veterinarian card first, telling Hannah her worries are unfounded, that of course Charlie is getting older, but he still has plenty more life in him.

 

_ “Trust me, I'm a vet.” _

 

Still, Hannah doesn't miss the way Baker winces when Charlie whimpers like a wounded puppy when he gets on and off the couch. “Still a vet now?” she thinks to herself, biting her lip because she knows it would be cruel to say out loud.

 

In the end, not even Baker can deny it. Hannah knows exactly what it means when Baker comes in from walking Charlie and collapses in tears in the entryway, crying incoherent sentences between gasping breaths while Hannah rocks her and kisses her temple.

 

“I know, baby,” Hannah whispers, more for herself than Baker. She loves Charlie, but she’ll never really know how Baker feels.

 

Charlie doesn't have the same anxiety as a lot of dogs do when going to the vet because in the past few years, it means going to see Baker more often than it means shots. With that in mind, Baker leaves the house before Hannah and goes to the office, where she prepares a room she rarely sees patients in.

 

They had discussed doing it at home, but Baker knows wherever it happens is going to be a bad place for her for a while. Her last memory of Charlie in their home will be rubbing his belly and getting a big lick on the side of her face before kissing Hannah goodbye, and that's the way she wants it.

 

Charlie is greeted at the office like he always is, by a chorus of coos and kisses and treats, and he preens under the attention like the handsome young pup he never stopped being. Once in their quiet room alone, Baker realizes what's actually happening and gasps out a sharp sob before her hand flies to her mouth and Hannah is there to rub her back.

 

Baker keeps her eyes on Charlie’s till they close for the last time, telling him what a good boy he is and how much she loves him, how lucky she is to have a friend like him, rubbing his ears and his tummy and all his favorite places.

 

Then it's Hannah doing the same for Baker, rubbing her neck and back and squeezing her hand as she whispers “I love you, I love you, I love you” in her ear.

 

Baker isn't the same for a while. She goes straight to bed when they get home and doesn't come out for the rest of the weekend. She picks at the toast Hannah brings when she prepares breakfast in bed, but she can't do more.

 

Charlie’s food bowl stays in its spot in the kitchen, what's left of his food still in a plastic container in the pantry. His bed (which he only ever used when the couches were completely taken by guests) stays in the corner of the living room, his treats still in a jar on their counter. It's almost as if nothing has changed, only everything has.

 

Baker picks up more shifts at work, and Hannah does all she can to support her from the sidelines. A busy Baker means a distracted Baker, and a distracted Baker can't be sad. That's always been Baker’s theory anyway.

 

Their anniversary falls on a Saturday, but Baker has been so busy that she forgets. When she wakes up to a card on the nightstand and Hannah making chocolate chip waffles downstairs, she has to face it.

 

“I've been such a bad girlfriend,” Baker sobs into Hannah’s neck as they hold each other in the kitchen.

 

“You were hurting,” Hannah says. “You had to take your time to grieve.”

 

“I promise I'm going to make it up to you,” Baker says. “We’ll have two anniversary weekends, and I’ll spoil you silly next weekend.”

 

Hannah smiles. “All I want from you is to hang out with me today. I have a plan, and I'm worried you won't like it, but I think we should.”

 

Baker agrees without hearing the plan, which is how they end up outside the same shelter where she adopted Charlie all those years ago.

 

“Hannah, I can't,” Baker says, a pained look on her face.

 

“Hey,” Hannah says, stroking Baker’s hand with her thumb. “The only time you see puppies anymore is at work. I just want to see you smile, and I know playing with puppies is a sure way to make that happen.”

 

“I'm not ready—”

 

“It's a first step,” Hannah says softly. “We’re not here to adopt. I know that will take a while. I can wait as long as you need.”

 

“Just playing,” Baker says.

 

“Just playing.”

 

The joy Hannah sees on Baker’s face for the first time in weeks while surrounded by puppies of all sizes and ages is the best anniversary gift she could have asked for. The buzz doesn't seem to wear off even when they get to the car. Baker is grinning when she teases Hannah about being jealous of all the puppies kissing her.

 

“I mean, if you like being licked all over your face, I can definitely make that happen, but I'm a way better kisser than any of them,” Hannah retorts. She leans over the console to prove it to Baker, starting with a soft kiss and then easing her girlfriend’s lips apart with her tongue.

 

“You should probably take me home before I rip all my clothes off in this parking lot,” Baker says with a sparkle in her eye when Hannah pulls away.

 

Hannah can feel Baker’s eyes on her as she watches the road. “Stop staring at me, you creep,” she teases.

 

“Never,” Baker says, taking Hannah’s right hand and bringing it to her lips for a kiss. “Charlie was the first one I told.”

 

“What?”

 

“About you,” Baker says. “After we kissed, that next morning when I went home, I cried to him in my room about how I'd had the most perfect kiss ever. And it was with you. Then after Spring Break, I told him everything. I told him I was probably in love with you. He was the only one I knew I could tell who wouldn't judge me or stop loving me. And he loved you, so if he understood anything I was saying, he probably would have been happy because you always gave him more treats than you should have.”

 

“He was a good pup.”

 

“The best,” Baker agrees. “Thanks for loving him so much.”

 

“Thanks for not talking shit about me to him when we weren’t friends.”

 

Baker rolls her eyes. “Yeah, but he knew every time you didn’t take out the trash once we moved in together,” she laughs. “I think it means more that he loved you anyway.”

 

“I agree.”

 

“Maybe in a few months we can go back to the shelter,” Baker says, her voice almost timid. “Find a new Charlie.”

 

“No,” Hannah says. She can feel Baker jolt a little, so she squeezes her hand. “There’s only one Charlie. But I’m sure there’s a dog there who can join our family and give us just as much love.”

  
Baker softens, leaning her head on Hannah’s shoulder. “There’s only one Charlie,” she repeats softly.


End file.
